Untitled
by DreamingODaisyChains
Summary: Onesided 10/OC. What would happen if the one person you love in the world doesn't love you back? It could make someone go insane.


We went on so many adventures. I had fallen in love with him, no matter how hard I fought against it, I just couldn't help it. But when I would be sleeping in the small bedroom the TARDIS had provided me, with its neat, tidy appearance of cream walls and sleek, modern furniture in warm, earthy browns and blue accents, I could feel her there. The woman who still held his heart. I had accidentally found myself in her room the first week I was with him. There were photos of them everywhere. He was livid. I was terrified. She was beautiful.

I stayed out of the overly girly room with its pink walls and dark cherry furniture, clothes strewn about as if she still lived there. I took great pains to avoid it.

Over time, I developed a way of coping. I sank myself into everything that wasn't him. Everywhere we went, when I could get away from him and everything was calm, I'd find someone, anyone, and bury myself into them. It didn't matter what gender, species, age, etc. I just needed someone, anyone to care, to understand how broken I was.

The first time I met Jack, we ended up finding ourselves shoved into a stall in the women's room. The next time I saw him, we consoled one another in his office. And then in someone's car. And in the stock room in a small grocery store. And the back alley two streets over from where the TARDIS had landed. The list goes on.

There were endless men and women, all with dark, dark eyes and unruly hair, but never enough, never him. As time went on, I found myself pulling even more into myself. Around him, I was overly joyful and chipper, a huge smile plastered to my face, stretching from one ear to the other, eyes bright and alert, laughter always at the tip of my tongue. I should have won an Oscar.

He never suspected a thing. He thought I needed time to myself to process things. I just needed time to forget. To lie. To rob myself of reality.

It had been over a year when it happened. One of the women I was with gave me this small little sticker, much like a nicotine patch. She put it on my neck and I felt like I was invincible. I felt as if the sun were shining out from me, lighting me from within. Everything was warm and tingly, wonderful and lovely. Everything felt amazing. But then it wore off.

I hid my addiction from the Doctor for a few months. But then it got worse. I couldn't bear the thought of him finding out. I was so ashamed of myself that I had let myself be reduced to nothingness by a man. A wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, witty, amazing man who deserved worlds better than a pathetic whelp like me.

I laid in the tub of pink water, my eyelids heavy, when he burst into the tiny, cramped room. The TARDIS hummed beneath me and I smiled. My dark hair spilled around me, reminding me that I wasn't her. I could never be her. She was perfect. Beautiful, blonde, tan skin and full lips. I was my own physical reminder that we were completely different.

He lifted me out of the water and stared at me, shocked. There were three patches on my neck.

"They don't work anymore. And neither do I," I murmured as the world slipped away from me.

I awoke again in the same tiny, cramped bed I had been living in for over a year. My wrists were bandage, and I was wearing an itchy night gown. I stayed there for a week, periodically waking to find food waiting for me. For the most part I didn't touch it.

When I felt better, I packed my things and walked into the control room. He didn't look surprised. I handed him a letter and left. I found the nearest motel and checked a room for the night.

Here I am, sitting on this bed, writing this letter of sorts, knowing he probably will never find this, will never know that I'm truly gone after tonight. If he knew everything I've done for him, he would hate me. I've kept my distance, I've strengthened the boundaries, I've forced myself to remember why every hour of every day. I wish I was giving up my life for him in a valiant way. Not so much.

I've phoned Jack and left him a message, letting him know how much I love him. As a friend. And that I would miss him. He told me things of her, the woman Rose. How she had saved his life. How he was forever grateful to her. How she was perfect in every way. How she was selfless. Generous. Full of life. How different she was from me.

I think of her perfect self, how horrible it is that my—no, her—Doctor had to give her up for her own safety. I think I am selfish. The first person to not love me back and I become mentally unstable. I am a pathetic piece of shit. I do not deserve the right to remove myself from the world. But I am a coward, so I will do it anyway.

I feel the cold metal against my cheek. It feels nice. I hear someone banging on the door outside. I hope the people from the front desk haven't caught on.

It's the Doctor and Jack. I can't let them stop me. I have to punish myself. I do not deserve to be in their presence anymore. They don't deserve to be weighed down. I cn hrr thee sonc scrwdrrverhidgknggrv abbfebjpifgrgggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggggggggggggggg gg


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